


"been feeling like the odd man out"

by violet_sunset



Series: Red Shift, Blue Shift [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Insecurity, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Pre-Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_sunset/pseuds/violet_sunset
Summary: Lance has some deep-seated insecurities surrounding his role as a leader and a friend. Keith is there to help him process his feelings, and to hold him when the waves of his fears threaten to overwhelm him.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Red Shift, Blue Shift [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778650
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	"been feeling like the odd man out"

**Author's Note:**

> Me: this might be a series idk  
> Me, like two hours later: this is a series now no it is not 5 AM yes i am okay, don't worry about it
> 
> In all seriousness, though, I stopped watching Voltron a long time ago but these characters have always stuck with me. I just want to do right by them in a way canon could never.
> 
> Title from Lucy Dacus' "I Don't Wanna Be Funny Anymore"

It becomes normal, after that night, for Keith to leave his gloves off when it’s just him and Lance. Lance tries not to think much of it, but he knows it took an insane amount of courage for Keith to even tell Lance about his suicide attempt in the first place, so he makes a point to internally appreciate every glimpse of bare knuckles or unshielded palm he catches. Even if it would probably be weird to say anything to Keith directly, he can at least respect the gesture.  
  
Other things start to change, too. It’s as if the gloves were the metaphorical dam, and now that they’ve been removed, all of Keith’s stagnant water is beginning to pour out and refresh into the river of a self Keith never got to be when he was younger. He adopts more casual opinions on things, like what Altean film genre is his favorite, whether or not Hunk’s baked goo tastes different to the sauteed goo, what types of planets he likes best. To his surprise, Keith admits he despises the desert planets and much prefers the planets whose ground teems with life and damp, rich soil.  
  
“I just wouldn’t have pegged you for it,” Lance says around a mouthful of goo. He’s been defending his point against Keith’s unrelenting eyebrow raise for about ten doboshes already, and he’s worried he’ll get tired before Keith’s forehead does. “I mean, you lived in a shack in a desert for like, years.”  
  
Keith’s eyebrow raise only intensifies. “Uh, no shit, dummy. That’s why I hate the desert planets so much. Earth, and that desert specifically, aren’t really shiny happy memories.”  
  
Lance cringes at the reminder. “Okay, fair point,” he concedes, and only feels a little indignant that the eyebrow relaxes after Keith has won.  
  
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Hunk asks suddenly, his own mouthful of goo muffling his words. “What happened to you on Earth?”  
  
Lance and Keith both jolt at the abrupt question, remembering that not everyone at the table knows the gritty details of Keith’s entire life story. Lance feels a cold spike of guilt for nearly forgetting there were even other people in the room. Allura and Coran have long since retired to their rooms, and as the night progressed, Lance fell into the easy rhythm of his and Keith’s typically more private conversations. Luckily, Keith has softened a considerable amount around the rest of the team since he and Lance started hanging out more, and he doesn’t recoil from the question. “I mean, you know; grew up without my mom and dad, got into a lot of fights, thought I lost…” Keith pauses, blinks, and then switches gears quickly. “Uh, got kicked out of the Garrison. It just… wasn’t a fun time, all things considered.”  
  
Hunk nods, looking slightly chagrined. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to… bring up any bad feelings or anything.”  
  
Keith shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand. “No, you didn’t. Not like I’m the only one of us who’s been through some shit, anyways.”  
  
Pidge snorts but doesn’t look up from where they’re typing rapidly, no doubt coding a new program into the Altean computer systems. “You can say that again,” they intone, and raise one fist for a solidarity bump.  
  
Lance, Keith, and Hunk all reach forward and bump fists against Pidge’s knuckles before they return to their laptop. Lance’s hand tingles with the strangest sense of absence. He wishes he’d felt the secure, solid bump of Shiro’s fist in that mix. His gut twists, and suddenly he regrets eating as much goo as he did. It’s definitely not agreeing with this particular train of thought.  
  
“I guess not all of Earth is bad though,” Keith says, breaking the quiet.  
  
Lance tilts his head. “Yeah?” he prompts.  
  
Keith’s lips twitch into one of those small, weary smiles. “Yeah. ‘Kashi took me to visit his grandmother once. She lived in a really mountainous area. Lots of trees. And cherry blossoms. It was… so beautiful. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of those types of places.”  
  
Lance’s heart feels unbearably full and empty all at once. Hearing Keith talk about Shiro, about before, it always hurts. It hurts not only because Lance knows what a fraction of that loss feels like now, but also because he knows just how much despair it caused Keith. How much the memory still hurts him.  
  
Hunk, always sensitive to the needs of a conversation, steps in. “When we all get back home, we should visit each other’s families together. You know, take Keith on the grand tour of our home cities. Show you the sights, man,” he finishes with a hopeful grin.  
  
The smile Keith flashes in return is brimming with something Lance can’t name. “I think I’d like that,” Keith agrees.  
  
It’s quiet after that, and eventually all the paladins feel themselves growing to the natural end of the night. Hunk is the first to go, scooping up everyone’s plates and giving each dish a cursory rinse before putting them in the cleanser that not a single one of them understands still. “Night, guys,” he says with a wave.  
  
“Night!” Lance replies. Pidge jerks their head in a nod of acknowledgement and Keith lifts a stationary hand to return Hunk’s wave.  
  
Keith stands once Hunk has gone and rounds the edge of the table to Pidge’s corner closest to the door. He ruffles his hand through their hair, much to their annoyance. “Don’t stay up ‘til the day cycle again, Pigeon,” he admonishes.  
  
Pidge sputters and flaps their hands at Keith’s offending hand. “What- _ever_ , Mom.”  
  
Lance grins. “How dare you speak to your mother in that tone!?”  
  
Pidge groans awfully loud and just barely avoids smacking their forehead against their keyboard when they faceplant on the table. “Fuck off, both of you.”  
  
“Language!” Keith retorts, and then reaches towards Lance despite their obvious distance. It’s a clear invitation, especially when Keith wiggles his fingers as if he wants Lance to actually hold his hand.  
  
Lance has never been to deny a direct request, so when he stands from his chair and ambles up to Keith’s side, he laces their fingers together and gives him a smile that’s supposed to be flirtatious but feels a little raw. He can tell by the short breath Keith sucks in that he notices the difference too, but Keith doesn’t pull away, and that’s enough for Lance to squeeze just a little tighter and let himself be led out of the kitchen.  
  
“You doin’ alright?” Keith asks once they’re a good way down the hall.  
  
Lance can’t even force a smirk. “Eh, así-así,” he says with a wiggle of his free hand.  
  
Keith’s mouth twists. “Is it… I mean, do you need to talk about it? Or do you want to?”  
  
They’re nearing Lance’s room. “I wouldn’t wanna keep you up,” he says tiredly.  
  
Predictably, Keith shakes his head. “You wouldn’t be.” He punctuates his statement with a firm squeeze of Lance’s hand.  
  
Lance sighs, but he knows his expression is too fond for it to come off as anything other than endeared. “You wanna enter the Lance lair, then?”  
  
Keith wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call it that. It sounds like a weird bachelor pad.”  
  
Lance laughs as he punches in his room’s security code. “Is it not? I’m a bachelor, this is my pad,” he says with a sweeping gesture to the room as they enter.  
  
Keith shakes his head with an affronted little “mm-mm” of disapproval. It makes a giggle burst into Lance’s throat and out of his mouth before he can stop it. He thanks his darker complexion for making it near impossible to pick out his blush when Keith whips around, wide-eyed.  
  
“D-did you just… giggle?” Keith asks, incredulous and smiling.  
  
Lance grimaces exaggeratedly. “God no,” he lies. “You’re definitely hearing things.”  
  
Keith’s smile doesn’t fade, and he cocks his hip. “Ah, okay. Must’ve been the wind. In space. You know. Space wind.”  
  
Lance tries not to break, but Keith is looking at him with an ever rising eyebrow, and the laughter tumbles out of both of them at almost the exact same moment. When they’re both finished laughing, their hands have parted so they can wipe away tears and fan their flushed faces, and Lance plunks down on his bed and stares up at Keith’s pretty face, pink nestled high on his cheekbones as he collects himself. Again, Lance feels extremely and unwarrantedly lucky to bear witness to this side of Keith, and the well of doubt yawns inside his chest, reminding him of why they’re even here.  
  
Keith comes to sit beside Lance on the bunk, a few inches between their shoulders, and looks towards Lance expectantly. Lance wishes his heart wasn’t in his throat. Then he sees Keith taking his gloves off out of the corner of his eye, and Lance feels like a fucking moron. He takes a deep breath and twists to face Keith fully, pulling his left leg up onto bed and crooking it between them, his foot still dangling over the edge. Keith, to his credit, doesn’t look like he’s waiting for anything spectacular. He sits with his hands in his lap and posture lax. It disperses some of the tension in Lance’s own body, and he lets his shoulders fall from where he’d been hunching them.  
  
“I guess I’ve been kind of… depressed? Lately.” Lance bites down on the inside of his cheek and wonders if he could have started that sentence any more noncommittally. “It’s always been hard, being up here. I miss my family. Like, a lot. And you guys help with that, don’t get me wrong. You’re like, familia two: electric boogaloo and all that, but with everything that happened with…”  
  
“Shiro,” Keith fills in for him, not unkindly.  
  
Lance winces. How is it that Shiro’s actual brother, who has actually lost Shiro before, can say his name and Lance can’t? “Yeah. It just all feels too much sometimes, and I wonder if I’m even… I mean, am I even the right person to lead with you? Hunk is so much more balanced than I am, and he never pushes your buttons on purpose, and Pidge is like leagues ahead of me in the intelligence department, and I just feel…” Lance waves his hands helplessly, his rising emotions making it difficult to pick out the words. “Inadequate,” he finishes softly.  
  
Keith is silent for a minute, and Lance is starting to wonder if he’s said something wrong or even if Keith is realizing that he’s right when suddenly there’s a hand on Lance’s forearm and a Keith very close to him. Their knees knock together like on spa nights, and Keith shuffles closer, leaning in to force Lance to look at his face. “Wanna remind me which of us Red chose?”  
  
Lance’s chest aches. “Me, but—”  
  
“Ah-bup-bup-bup,” Keith interrupts, holding up a stern hand. “I’m not done. Who’s the paladin that always makes sure we’re all safe and coherent over the comms?”  
  
“Me,” Lance mutters.  
  
“Who carries Pidge to their room when they fall asleep working?” Keith’s hand is warm through Lance’s sleeve, and his jaw is set.  
  
“Me,” Lance replies. “But how does that—”  
  
“Who,” Keith says loudly, “is the one who reminds Hunk to breathe and gives him hugs when he doesn’t even know he needs one?”  
  
“Me, but I—”  
  
“Who’s the one person besides Shiro that I have willingly opened up to in all twenty years of my entire fucking life, Lance? Who’s that?”  
  
Lance’s eyes burn. “Me?” he asks, somehow uncertain even though the answer is practically written all over Keith’s expression.  
  
Keith nods. “You, Lance. You saw that I was struggling, and that the team was hurting, and you took up the responsibility of bringing us all back together. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be a grumpy asshole who didn’t talk about his feelings because he’d refuse to admit he even has them. You have made me better, Lance. Not only as a leader, by setting an example that I can follow, but as a person. I was so lost for so long, and you came along and forced me to confront all the things I hated about myself and really think about why they were there.”  
  
Lance laughs and tastes salt. When did he start crying? “Okay, but I did that by insulting you relentlessly,” he argues.  
  
Keith rolls his eyes a little, but tips his head. “Yeah, at first,” he admits. “But you weren’t trying to be cruel, Lance. You were hurting, and desperate to prove yourself, just like me. Do you think that, because I used to be impulsive and quick to anger, and because I’ve hurt myself and ignored my own needs, that I’m not a fit leader for Voltron right now?”  
  
Lance recoils. “No,” he spits. “What the hell? You know how to make hard decisions, and you make sure we work together, and you value our input and… just, no.”  
  
Keith presses his lips together and gestures at Lance. “So why do you hold yourself to a higher standard than you hold me to?”  
  
The question is like a flash grenade. Lance hears it, but then his senses are completely eliminated and he can only hear it repeating like a ringing in his ears. The dust settles on the feeling of Keith’s body pressed to his side. “I—I,” he stammers. And then the wall Lance has built around the truth cracks, and he can feel Keith’s question scrabbling at the mortar, ripping away his defenses. “Because I don’t think I’m enough,” he says flatly. Tears well up slowly, like it takes a deep plunge into the well of his emotions to draw them up. “For anyone.”  
  
Suddenly, Lance has an armful of Keith. Or maybe Keith has an armful of him, because he feels very comfortably enclosed by strong, intentional arms. Lance carefully winds his own arms around Keith’s waist and buries his face in Keith’s shoulder. The tears come faster, the wall breaking apart inside his chest. “I-I’ve n-never fe-felt good enough,” he admits.  
  
One of Keith’s hands is rubbing a soothing pattern up and down his spine, and Lance feels the sobs wrenching out of his gut as Keith holds him. He tucks his chin over Keith’s shoulder and lets himself be pulled even closer, held even tighter. “N-not as a son, or-or a p-pilot, or f-friend, or any-anything,” he says between hiccuping cries. “I’m al-always the l-last choice, th-the least fa-favorite.”  
  
“Not to me,” Keith replies, his voice rumbling through Lance’s chest and into his limbs, resonating in his head like thunder. “You’re my best friend, Lance. You’re the most important person in my life other than ‘Kashi, you hear me?” Keith’s hand is still rubbing Lance’s back, but the other comes up to cradle the back of Lance’s head. His fingers thread into Lance’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “I know you don’t see yourself like the rest of us do, Lance, but you’re irreplaceable. You’re the only you we’ve got, and we wouldn’t trade you for anything in the entire fucking multiverse, you got that?”  
  
Lance nods against Keith’s shoulder, beyond words at this point as he cries harder than he has since he was a child. Keith’s hand continues to card through his hair, the other now settled firmly at the center of his back. Lance cries so hard his head hurts and black spots float into his field of vision, but it doesn’t matter because Keith is here, and Keith is holding him, and Keith believes in his worth. He cries until his fingers are numb and his arms are tingling and he has to suck in desperate gulps of air. And when the tears slow and the panic dissipates, he finds himself still securely rooted in Keith’s arms.  
  
“Thank you,” Lance whispers, throat sore from crying.  
  
Keith just hums and pulls him closer, as if Lance could be any closer without actively sitting in Keith’s lap. Lance feels a flare of heat run up and down his entire body at the thought, and he forcefully pushes it out of his mind, choosing instead to lay his temple against Keith’s shoulder and breathe in the smell of damp firewood and citrus. He wonders how Keith can still manage to smell like such Earth-specific things all the way out in space.  
  
“You feelin’ better, Little Boy Blue?” Keith asks.  
  
Lance’s smile doesn’t come easy, but he still nods and pulls back enough to finally wipe his face on his sleeves. “Yeah, a little. I’ve probably needed to cry that one out for a while now.”  
  
Keith smirks. “Probably.”  
  
“Sorry if I got you all snotty,” Lance says as he wipes under his eyes.  
  
“Eh, jacket needed a wash anyway,” Keith says diplomatically, and then shrugs out of said jacket in an open display of more trust than Lance ever imagined he would receive from the red paladin.  
  
In the dim light of the ship’s night cycle, Keith’s numerous scars seem to flash silver against his skin. Lance doesn’t stare, but he does let his eyes sweep up Keith’s arms to his face, meeting his eyes with intent. “Will you stay?” Lance asks. He hates how feeble his voice comes out, but Keith doesn’t miss a bit.  
  
“Anytime,” he says. And Lance believes him.  
  
A fresh wave of tears threatens to overwhelm Lance’s already puffy eyelids, and he blinks hard and bends over to start unlacing his shoes. “Um, usually I’d like, do my whole night-time routine, but I don’t wanna just… leave you alone, if that’d be weird, or?”  
  
Keith lays a sturdy hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Hey, ‘s not weird. I’m gonna get comfy anyways, so go do your beauty routine and I’ll be here when you get back.”  
  
Lance deflates. “Sorry, I’m like… I know you said you’d stay but I just… I’m scared you’ll leave, I guess? It’s just… ya know, people can’t always stay.”  
  
Keith’s hand twitches. “I know,” he says softly. They’re both thinking of a shock of white hair, and a pink scar stretching over a sharply angled nose, and — “I’ll stay, though, Lance. I’ll always stay.”  
  
Lance sits back up when his shoes are off, and he looks into Keith’s eyes, their faces a little too close to ignore. But Keith just pushes forward and presses his forehead against Lance’s in an affectionate mockery of their usual confrontational stance. “As long as I’m breathing, I’ll stay when you ask me to.”  
  
The atmosphere is tense. Lance breathes out a weak laugh. “Careful, Kogane. People might talk.”  
  
Keith snickers, and pulls away. But it doesn’t feel like a chasm has opened, and Lance is eternally grateful for that. Keith’s hand is still on his back, and his expression is still warm, and his promise to stay rings as true as ever. “Go get fancy, or whatever,” Keith urges. “At this rate you’re gonna pass out in the bathroom and I’ll have to drag your ass to a cryopod in the middle of the night.”  
  
Lance rolls his eyes and shoves Keith lightly. “Yeah, whatever, twiggy boy.”  
  
Keith scowls, playful in nature. “Let’s not forget I cradled you in my arms. Twice, now. I think I could manage to carry you to a pod if pressed.”  
  
Lance stands and wilts dramatically, the back of one hand to his forehead. “Oh, my savior, willing to rescue me so long as it’s under duress,” he trills, and then yelps when a pillow smacks into his back. He darts into the bathroom with a laugh, and when he sees himself looking ragged and worn in the mirror, he doesn’t let his judgmental thoughts stick. Keith has seen him like this, and Keith has heard what he thinks of himself, and Keith is staying.  
  
Yeah. Keith is staying.

**Author's Note:**

> apparently my new hyperfixation for a bit is gonna be voltron. healthy klance shippers come get y'all juice


End file.
